


Boy I Know

by Vanemis



Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Alternate Universe - High School, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bullying, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parties, Rescue, Underage Drinking, Work In Progress, school fights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-01 23:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanemis/pseuds/Vanemis
Summary: Zacky has to constantly deal with the Dick Squad, aka Matt and his equally annoying friends.After a fight breaks out, Matt does the unthinkable and a bewildered Zack must deal with the consequences.*EDITED*





	1. Why me?

**Author's Note:**

> This piece will have quite a few chapters so keep an eye out for updates! Thank you all for reading my work and I hope you enjoy it  
> \- Nathaniel

They are definitely following him.  

Three kids from school have been stalking him for the past ten minutes on his walk home. Thing is, Zack knows where these douchebags live and it’s nowhere near him. In fact, there’s nothing interesting close to his childhood home that could warrant going there unless it was to keep an eye on Zack and find a chance to- well, he doesn’t know what they want, but it can’t be good.   

All of them are in the same year, and Zack shares his classes with at least one of them, so he knows them well enough. Jackasses is a good term for these guys. The trio go around harassing anyone they can, and Zack has been shoved, punched, kicked and mocked plenty to know that they don’t deserve any oxygen. Of course he’s fought back plenty, and once sent the shortest one to hospital with a broken bone.  

If they’re gonna follow him home, the best thing to do would be to head somewhere different and fuck with them. 

 

Normally this is where he’d turn right and head down the avenue, but now he’ll go left. He knows this area like the back of his hand, and, hopefully, those losers don’t.  

The park is close by, maybe he’ll take a stroll through and lose them in the small woods. The trees are tall and thin and in full bloom, so hiding behind a cluster could help but the dick squad is too close for that. They’re maybe twenty meters behind Zack and squashing the distance every once in a while.  

The leaves crunch under his converse and he snaps a few twigs much to his annoyance. But keeping quiet doesn’t matter anymore. Their leader is very close and it’s unnerving how Zack can almost feel his presence hovering behind him. Maybe the woods was a bad idea. 

He spots a woman walking her dog and he’s tempted to yell out but that would only make things worse. He can stand up to these guys and walk away proudly, except for that time the bean pole kid broke three of Zack’s ribs by shoving him down the History stairs. Zack didn’t walk away from that. He was carried out by paramedics.  

 

A hand closes over his denim-clad shoulder mid-step and Zack stumbles slightly as he’s forced to spin around to face the Dick King.  

If there’s anyone Zack truly hates, it’s Matt Sanders. And Zack wouldn’t truly be experiencing highschool without dealing with jocks. Except Matt isn’t your typical idiotic football player who pranks unsuspecting freshmen; he’s smart and knows how to keep the teachers from finding out how much of a cunt he is. For example, he’s not the type to throw bottles or balled up paper in class and pretend he didn’t do it. He’s the kind that will trash you to teachers so they refuse to let you on the team, he’ll untune your instruments before a performance and hide your clothes so you have to borrow the ones left at the back of the storage room which haven’t been washed in ten years. No one can ever blame these things on Matt because there’s no proof. Either you’re not prepared or you misplaced your stuff, and since Matt is a straight A student, the school won’t tolerate any accusation.  

And if that wasn’t the worst, Matt happens to like almost every band Zack loves. Imagine hearing your arch-enemy singing your favourite song and every time you listen to it, you see their smug face. That’s the definition of Hell.  

“You look lost, buddy.” Matt puts on a concerned look but he ends up looking more like a wolf taunting its prey.  

“Trust me, I’m not.” With a shrug, Zack dislodges Matt’s hand and takes a step back with a scoff. He keeps striding confidently but that doesn’t deter the group. 

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” It’s the shorter one asking, Brian, and he rounds to Zack’s side. When Zack glares at him and shoulders his bag and keeps his hand on the strap, Brian chuckles and raises both palms in defence.  

“I _was_ enjoying a nice walk. What are you doing? You’ve got nothing better to do than follow me?” Zack feigns shock as he poses the questions and the shark grin he gets from Matt sends shivers done his spine.  

“What makes you think we’re following you?” 

“Am I supposed to believe that you coincidently took the exact same path as me from school?” Zack starts walking a little faster. The end of the woods is in sight and soon he’ll join the wide path that cuts through the flat landscape. 

“Sure, why not.”  

“Well, I hope you have fun getting back home.” With that, Zack turns and starts to walk even faster and leaving some distance between them. He doesn’t get far before the overgrown kid stands in his way with his arms crossed. “Well, aren’t you imposing? I’d punch you, but my fist would probably go through you like paper.” 

James shifts uncomfortably. Okay, maybe making fun of his eating disorder wasn’t very nice but he did push Zack down two flights of stairs.  

“Zacky... where do you think you’re going?” Matt appears at his side, hand clasping his shoulder again.  

“Home.”  

“Oh you will... just not right now.”  

“Are you and your boytoys gonna stop me?” Matt grins and Zack notices him tensing. Except he think it’s cus he hit a nerve, not because Matt is readying to punch him in the gut.  

The pain is startling and blossoming across his abdomen in an instant, and by then, Zack is already being used as a punching bag. He feels someone kick him in the ribs and he vows to break theirs so they know how bad it hurts even months after they’ve healed.  

The assault stops and Matt squats down besides him and pats his back like an old friend. Zack takes the lowered defences into account and twists himself to land a hit in Matt’s throat.  

“F-fucker!” 

“You deserve it.” Matt continues to cough and shakily stands. He glares at Zack and then glance to his two shocked friends as they stand a safe distance from the small but angry kid crouching on the grass.   

“I’m gonna get you for that.”  

“I’m right here, you dick. Keep your pets out of this and we’ll see how long you can last.”  

The grin Matt sends him causes unpleasant shivers down his spine but he refuses to let Matt know he’s scared. Why the fuck did he say that? Now he has to keep fighting and likely end up with something broken... again. 

 

Brian and James are as loyal as ever and they take a spot near some trees to watch the fight. Matt removes his shirt in what Zack believes is his way of showing off the muscles he’s gained from the multitude of sports he takes part in, and tosses it along with his rucksack to the side.  

Zack just takes off his hoodie, not willing to sink low enough to show off his torso. He’s nowhere near as fit but Zack doesn’t need to prove his masculinity. His bag joins it and he glares as James picks it up, along with Matt’s things. The last thing Zack wants is for his stuff to get stolen or searched through. 

He pats his jeans for his phone but he remembers leaving it in his hoodie. Hopefully those two fucks won’t try to unlock it.  

“Ready?” Matt taunts him, smirking and rolling his shoulders. Zack eyes the six foot athlete and gulps. He doesn’t even know how to fight. Not properly, at least. He can punch decently but he’s better at running away even if he never does.  

“Rules?” Zack hopes the other doesn’t plan on knocking him out or fighting dirty. 

“Whoever taps out loses.” 

“Fine by me. Let’s do this.”   

 

The two teens watch each other, neither wanting to make the first move and risk being thrown to the ground. Though Zack doubts he could do that to Matt without help from at least three more boys.  

Eventually, Matt moves and his fist swings at Zack so blindingly fast that the younger boy barely dodges. He ducks and slams his shoulder into Matt’s chest, knocking his breath out painfully. The other boy recovers quickly and keeps up the pace, landing as many hits as he receives until they both need a second to catch their breath.  

Zack can’t really go on much longer, he’s exhausted and thirsty and his head is pounding where Matt struck his temple. His hands ache and blood seeps through the grazes on his knuckles and his chest must be marred with bruises by now. He smiles to himself when he notices Matt is not faring any better. The older boy even has some cuts where Zack scratched him.  

They both stop to assess the damage but to anyone, it’s clear who the winner is: Matt. But neither have tapped out yet.  

As Zack lets himself get distracted by his thoughts, he doesn’t notice Matt surging up to him and grabbing the front of his shirt in a fist. The grip tightens and Zack is thrown to the ground. Matt is on top of him immediately, kneeling on him with one knee on Zack’s lower back and a hand clasped around his neck to keep him down. At least now Zack knows why Matt took off his shirt.  

Zack struggles but Matt doesn’t budge and successfully keeps him down. The older boy leans down to say something witty but Zack has enough space to slam his elbow back into Matt’s jaw. He hears Matt groan and wince and he uses the distraction to push himself up, sending the boy onto the ground.  

With Matt on his back and cradling his jaw with one hand, he can’t stop Zack from straddling his chest. The younger kid uses all the strength he has left to punch Matt. He knows he can’t hold Matt down for long, so he wraps his hands around the boy’s throat and tries his best to crush it. The sudden lack of oxygen sends Matt thrashing underneath him, kicking hopelessly and trying to claw at Zack’s skinny arms.  

Zack glances at the boy he’s in the middle of strangling and smirks, pleased to have gotten the upper hand and turned the tables but then he sees the genuine fear in the boy’s eyes. Matt is actually scared of him.  

That’s when he stops and shifts his weight to Matt’s hips so Matt can gulp in large amounts of air and cough loudly. The two boys stay there for a good minute, both regaining their breaths and a little strength.  

“Just tap out, man,” Zack mumbles when Matt doesn’t try to knock him off. A hand touches his thigh and pats twice slowly. Nodding, the younger kid crawls away from Matt. The other takes a minute longer to recover and then he sits up and glances at the winner of their stupid little fight. 

“You’re better than I thought.” 

“Thanks. Fuck, I need a drink.” Matt stands and stretches before walking to his companions and grabbing his stuff. As he digs through his bag, he returns to Zack and hands him a water bottle still half full.  

Zack doesn’t question it and downs a good quantity, sighing in relief as the still cool liquid eases the rough lining of his throat. He hands it back and Matt mirrors before shoving it back inside his bag. Zack nods his thanks and stands to gather his stuff, wincing as he pulls on his hoodie. His phone falls out but before he can kneel down to fetch it, Matt retrieves it and holds it out with a confident smirk. 

“What?” Zack asks irritably with a groan, not wanting to start another fight or piss off Matt again.  

“I’m just impressed.” 

“That I kicked your ass?” 

“If you can call it that.” 

“Yeah, well you tapped out. You lose, I win.” Matt smirks again and Zack takes back his locked phone with a grimace. He just wants to go home and sleep for five years or more.  

“Where do you live?” 

“I ain’t fucking telling you.” 

“... I need to talk to you.” 

“Fine, but you talk to me here.” Zack can tell there’s no arguing with Matt and he watches as the older boy heads to chat to his friends. The two walk off after some hesitation and James looks back plenty as he trails off with Brian. Zack holds back from showing him the bird.  

 

“So what do you want?” Instead of a verbal reply, Matt grabs a fistful of Zack’s hoodie and drags him further away to where the trees are thicker. “Hey! Let me go, asshole.” 

“Stop calling me that.”  

“Make m-“  

Matt leans in and presses his lips to Zack’s, barely moving but still pushing hard. Zack stands frozen, staring at the boy and not really knowing what the fuck is going on. He’s heard Matt call gays every slur under the sun and yet the fucker has the nerve to kiss him.  

When Matt pulls back, he’s met with a harsh slap. He glances at Zack uncertainly and takes a step back.  

“Why-?” 

“Cus you are one messed up shit! You’ve got the fucking nerve to bully every LGBT person at school and you try and kiss a dude, hoping to get away with it. You’re fucking sick!” 

“I can’t fucking help it.” 

“What? You gonna blame it on peer pressure? Really? Cus you seem to forget I have the same classes as your friends and they sure as hell aren’t being dicks when you’re not around. If anything, you’re pressuring _them_!” 

“I’m sorry, okay!”  

Zack raises both arms in the air and mockingly says, “Oh well, thank God you’re sorry! I guess now that you’ve said that, every person you’ve ever hurt is gonna be just fine! All those self harm scars will just magically disappear, or my ribs won’t hurt when I try to turn on my bed, or maybe I’d even let you kiss me again.  

“It’s okay, world! Matt said he’s sorry!”  

Once Zack is finished with his outburst and the people walking their dogs have moved away after being drawn to the noise, he risks glancing at Matt. If it were possible, he’s sure Matt would enjoy being swallowed up by the ground and never seen again. 

The older boy is red with embarrassment and he refuses to meet Zack’s eyes, crossing his arms over his clothed chest and trying to appear as small as he can which doesn’t work considering he’s built like a tank.  

"Just fuck off back to your friends."  

Surprisingly, Matt does as commanded and turns his back to Zacky. The younger boy watches him trail away until he's rejoined the rest of the dick squad, and Zack, himself, goes on his way without looking back.


	2. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the ending of the last chapter and it's quite crucial, so go have a look if you can just so you know the story has changed a bit.  
> Hope you guys are enjoying this. Leave a kudos or a comment to let me know what you think!

 The first class, History, drags on and it hasn’t even started. The teacher isn’t here yet and students are still dragging their exhausted asses into the room. The loud chatter is easy to drown out with Zacky’s metal playlist and by doodling little nothings in his notebook. Not the one for schoolwork but a separate one, because Mr Spencers hates needless scribbles and sends students to the principal for anything he doesn’t like. Zacky is on his last warning already. It says so on the whiteboard.  

A bag slams down on the desk to his right and Matt takes his seat, emptying it of his books and a simple pen. Zack catches the sight of boxed cigarettes along with a hoodie and some other stuff for his classes. He dares to glance at Matt and sees the teen happily chatting with the person behind him. 

“Sup’ loser?” Matt nods his way and Zack ignores him, not having heard his voice over the powerful riffs but he’s certain Matt didn’t say anything intelligent.  

 

As the seats begin to fill up, Zack doesn’t notice the teacher hovering outside the door talking to a colleague and continues to mouth lyrics and draw a zombie soldier. Matt, however, does and sharply elbows Zacky.  

The angered teen pulls out an earbud, ready to swear up a storm, but is stopped short by Matt nodding at the door and pretending to look busy. Zack finally notes the teacher and rushes to shove his phone and earphones into his pocket after pausing midway through his favourite song. He manages to hide it just as Mr Spencers strides inside with all of his 57 year old grace.  

As the historian busies himself with arranging his lesson plan, Zack turns to Matt.  

“Thanks.” Matt shrugs and pretends that Zack is no longer there. 

Mr Spencers starts his hour long class with his usual PowerPoint presentation about why History is essential to the school curriculum. Then it’s onto reading the various treaties signed after the first world war.  

 

Halfway through the lesson, the teacher splits the kids into groups of their own choosing and Zack goes to sit with his best friend, Johnny. A few others join, since Mr Spencers doesn’t like pairs, and work starts again. 

“I’m surprised Matt didn’t out you,” Johnny comments as he copies from the girl in front of him.  

The younger teen is technically two years younger than Zack, but with his incredibly high grades he was allowed to join Zack's yeargroup. The punk took an immediate liking to Zack when the eldest was forced to show newbies around for the first week of elementary. They sat together during breaks and shared stories and found a lot of common interests, and since then continue to be very close.  

 Zack shrugs. “Guess he’s having a good day.” His buddy nods and carries on working. He doesn't mention to Johnny the kiss, or that he called Matt out on his bullshit or even of the fight that took place. 

 

When lunch rears around, Johnny is more than enjoying his day. By now, he has crossed Matt several times and avoided having his bag stolen and his small body slammed into the hallways. The older kid must really be having a good day. 

 

* * *

 

“Dude, seriously, what happened after we left?” Brian questions as he pauses to dip some greasy fries in ketchup.  

“Nothing.”  

Brian eyes Matt and shrugs it off, stuffing his face happily and nudging at James’ plate when the teen pokes at the sad excuse for a pizza slice his friend ordered him.  

“Eat.” 

“Not hungry. You have it.” James pushes his plate towards Brian and sits back in the blue plastic chair. He sighs as Brian groans but refuses to waste the food. He can’t help it if he can’t eat.  

“You need to eat something, Jim. I don’t want you passing out again.” Matt quips as he watches his two friends bicker over the tomato and cheese _breadslice_ the school likes to hand it. Even he refuses to eat from the canteen, and knowing how picky Jimmy is, he’s not surprised when Jim refuses to eat that slop. 

“That only happened once,” the tall boy argues.  

“Yeah. You scared the shit outta me. Can’t you bring something from home?” 

“There’s nothing in the fridge. Dad’s out shopping today.”  

“Alright, in that case, bring something to eat from now on. I don’t care if it’s fruit or some really bad candy bar, but you need sugar. Just do that for me.” 

“...Fine. “ 

“Thank you.” Jimmy smiles at the genuine concern his friends display and he knows they mean well, but eating makes him sick. He doesn’t know why and neither do his doctors or the psychiatrist he started seeing after Christmas.   

He still appreciates their help.  

“You know, that kid really knocked your ass,” Brian states as his eyes fall on the dark haired punk who wasted Matt. He smirks at the patches on the kid’s jacket, finding a few bands he likes. 

“True. He’s like a honey badger. Tiny but lethal.” 

“Dude, everyone’s tiny compared to you.” Jimmy grins at that, following Brian’s stare to find the kid. He didn’t think Zack would win. Matt takes part in every sport at school, including wrestling, so for the twerp to win was a shocker.  

 

* * *

 

The bell rings and the tired students scramble to the door, ignoring their annoyed teachers and rejoicing in finally going home. The buses are waiting patiently outside in the violent downpour that battered against the windows.  

Zacky slogs to his locker to empty it. His eyes lose focus and his body is weary from the science double he just escaped. He's slow to take his sports kit and close up the metal container. Around him are hundreds of kids rushing to get to the buses on time. The exhausted boy has the luxury of living close and the misfortune of walking in a rainstorm.  

He sighs to himself, slinging his two bags on his shoulders and starting the trek to the front entrance. Hopefully the sudden rain will have died down and he can sprint home without getting too soaked. Rain is pretty rare around these parts, and many people will rejoice at the forecast. 

 

Just as he begins to walk away from the long row of grey lockers, something heavy and fast impacts harshly with his small body. He’s sent into the nearest wall, barely catching himself. As he raises his head to glare at the rude dick who shoved past, his eyes meet _him_. 

“Watch where you’re going, fag,” Matt sneers as he carries on walking down the now-empty corridor with his two buddies in tow.  

“You walked into me, dick bag!” The only response is Matt’s middle finger. The idiot doesn’t even bother to continue his usual lengthy torment. “You should watch who you call a fag! Wouldn’t to insult yourself, would you?” 

Matt is quick to spin around and prowl back to Zack, anger growing in his eyes. Well, at last Zack got a response.  

“The fuck did you say?”  

“What? Did you think I'd forget what you did?” 

“Don't you dare...” Matt whispers harshly between them, sneaking a glance at his unsuspecting friends. 

“That kiss wasn't too bad. Not the best I've had but I guess you were kinda rushed. So, Matt, who’s really the fag?”  

Okay, Zack should’ve probably seen the punch coming. He’s not usually this bitter and wanting to start a fight, but exhaustion has taken away his censor and left nothing but sarcasm. And he won't stand Matt's bullshit any longer. 

Matt’s fist connecting with his cheek hurt like hell but after the initial burst of pain, it settles into a dull throb that makes Zack just... laugh. The look of the other boy’s face is priceless and slightly scared at the kid chuckling to himself as he tentatively pats the sensitive skin.  

“That all you got, fag?” 

“The day I’m a faggot is the day you stop wearing your mom’s trashy makeup.” With that, Matt takes a step back and heads back down the corridor without looking back. Brian and James exchange confused looks before following Matt. 

 _If that’s what it’ll take_ , Zack smirks to himself, _I guess I’ll do just that_.


End file.
